Who was Shakespeare, really?

There’s a lot of interest in unveiling the real Shakespeare these days. That man from Avon was the business manager for one of the most famous acting companies of the day and had a well-documented life as a minor businessman, but no evidence he was actually a writer. The longest signed document was his will, in which he carefully catalogued all his possessions, which strangely, did not include a single book nor important manuscript. As a writer, I can assure you we keep copies of our creations.

When the man from Avon died, the world was silent. It wasn’t until seven years later that Ben Jonson wrote the intro to the first folio. But what if Jonson was really in on the gag and protecting the real story?
The man from Avon had two daughters, one of whom bizarrely appears to have been functionally illiterate. More important, however, for a commoner with no documented travel nor education, it is inconceivable the man from Avon could have absorbed all the details or had access to the wealth of information on a wide variety of subjects, or had such insight into the ways of the royals. Most likely it was a team, and included a woman because the female characters are so well crafted. Women were not allowed involvement with the theater at the time, which might help explain a need to remain anonymous. Likely, at least one man was involved, and perhaps more.

Edward de Vere was patron of the greatest acting troupe of the day, known as Oxford’s Men (de Vere was the Earl of Oxford), while the other group, The King’s Men, included Shakespeare as actor and business manager. The patron of the King’s Men was Henry Carey, who had a mistress 20 years younger than himself, Emilia Bassano, the most famous female poet of the age. Another female candidate is Mary Sidney, whose groundbreaking play Antonius revived interest in classical soliloquy. Sidney founded the most influential literary salon in the history of English literature and the most creative minds communed at her salon at Wilton House.

After having solved many mysteries, like the origins of the Holy Grail (born on the Hemp Road linking Europe with the East), Jay Gould’s involvement in the Lincoln assassination, JM/Wave’s involvement in the JFK assassination, my spotlight has turned onto the Shakespeare controversy.

Obviously the man from Avon does not have the CV for producing the work, and I believe only a team could cover the vast territory involved. My current thesis is a council overseen by Queen Elizabeth produced Shakespeare, and this group included another women or two, and at least one talented man, such as Francis Bacon.

The man from Avon died in 1616 and the first folio creating his legacy was not published until seven years later, when the mythology was first laid down by Ben Jonson, who strangely had said nothing seven years earlier when his supposed great friend passed away. Strange also how the man from Avon knew no other famous writers, and never appeared at any of the literary salons of the era. No one else famous seems to have known him. And strange how new work continued to be published after his death.

The first portrait of Shakespeare appeared in that folio and his facial features strongly resemble a mask, and, in fact, a distinct mask outline is included.

The Authorship issue,” says Lorenzo Geraldo, “is based on greed and continued misunderstanding ever since David Garrick came to Stratford in 1769 and started the illusion of William Shaksper as author of the Plays. Stratford is a tax haven for the Crown from the Tourist industry. Oxfordians continue to sell their water down by the river to naive newcomers. Edward de Vere is easily eliminated as he died way too early in 1604 before many of the plays were written. There are references in the plays that took place after 1604. Bacon on the other hand lived till 1626 and was there for the production of the 1623 Shakespeare First Folio. Bacon left actual evidence behind with the only Shakespeare related diary or notebook, The Promus, that contains over 3 thousand unique Shakespeare phrases jotted down in his own handwriting that precedes the Plays publication and stage performances. This gag book would be a greater mystery if Bacon wasn’t Shakespeare. Yes there was collaboration, Ben Jonson is the key as he worked and lived with Francis Bacon after his impeachment. Jonson called Bacon, “The Chief” and wrote admiringly of Bacon’s mind and talents as did many other friends of Bacon’s who referred to himself as “a concealed poet.””

Watch the film below.
  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aZ_cuc8OS4s

PEBL versus Elf

Give credit to the Elf for pioneering the concept of a solar-powered trike that can replace gas-guzzling cars for commuting and shopping locally.

A few years later, the PEBL was created as the Elf competitor. Last spring, however, Elf shut down their production and is currently seeking a financial rescue that may or may not come. Since hundreds of Elfs were sold over the past six years, it’s not difficult to find a used one on the Internet, often at a fraction of the $10k cost of buying a new one. The Elf started at half that price, but the cost kept rising as improvements were made and features added. Although the Elf is bigger and wider, remarkably, it weighs much less than the PEBL, which means it’s also easier to pedal. In fact, if the battery gives out, and you don’t have an outlet to plug into, or time to let the solar panel refill the battery (something that takes hours and hours), it’s not that difficult to operate the Elf on pedal power alone, something that would be far more difficult with a PEBL. My Elf also came with a variable transmission that’s far superior to the standard 8-speed transmission on the PEBL.

But on just about every other feature, the PEBL blows away the Elf, mostly due to its suspension system. The Elf works fine on flat level roads with no potholes, but the ride can be bone-jarring over bumps. The antler arms can also be difficult to wrestle over bumps. Not so with the PEBL, which is easily steered with one hand. The Elf has a more recumbent position, while riders are more upright in the PEBL. I prefer upright, but some others may prefer a more recumbent posture.

You won’t find many used PEBLs for sale, and the trike probably holds its value better, although if you are bargain hunting, it’s easy to locate a used Elf for a few thousand dollars, a great deal since many two-wheel ebikes cost over $5k. The PEBL battery is easier to charge and holds more juice. Also, the Elf has an open floor and unfinished interior, while the PEBL is fully enclosed and carpeted. The PEBL is more narrow and has a shorter turn radius, but that may also make it more susceptible to rollovers.

The PEBL is a four-season bike easily ridden through rain and snow, unlike the Elf which is designed for warmer weather. Remarkably, the price between the two was not very far apart, which accounts for the PEBL being a better value for the money, as well as a better-built bike.

As for modifications, I replaced the Elf mirrors with larger ones that folded in completely. On the PEBL, I put Batman logos over the BB logo on the front and seat. I’d urge BetterBike to explore a better logo. The Elf logo was stylized letters for Organic Transit, but many see it just as a “T” for “Tesla.” The PEBL also needed a strip of clear tape on the rear hatch hinge because it leaked rain water into the cabin.

Buel Frazier is a key to JFK’s assassination

Frazier on the day of the assassination prior to a 12-hour grilling in which he was falsely told Oswald named him a co-conspirator.

Buel Frazier was only 19 when he met Lee Harvey Oswald. They both worked at the Texas School Book Depository for minimum wage ($1.50) and Frazier sometimes drove Oswald the 15 miles to work if his broken-down Chevy was functional. The day of the assassination Oswald appeared with a two-foot-long package and told Frazier they were curtain rods. When they arrived at work, Oswald carried the package between his palm and armpit. Frazier never swallowed the story that short package was actually a 36-inch Mannlicher-Carcano rifle. Nor did he swallow the story that soft-spoken, highly intelligent Lee Oswald shot JFK that day.

A much different, longer package from the one Frazier had seen that morning was produced for the media. Enormous efforts were made to connect Oswald to the murder weapon, and some of this activity seems to have involved fabricating evidence as it went along, which is why there was so much revision. The problem with the enormous bag shown to the media is it was put together with tape from the book depository, indicating it wasn’t the bag Oswald carried because his bag had been manufactured off-site.

I have no doubt Oswald was instructed to bring a package to work that day because he was seen departing the scene in a green Rambler station wagon driven by David Morales, or someone who looked much like Morales. Two others might have been hiding on the floorboards inside, one of whom could have been Ted Shackley. Certainly that duo worked on a number of murderous missions over the years.

Frazier was put through a 12-hour hostile interrogation and told at one point that Oswald had named him as a co-conspirator. He demanded and eventually got a lie detector test, which he easily passed. However, the hostility of the police towards his belief in Oswald’s innocence caused Frazier to lie very low for a long time.

He was pressured to change his story and also change the length of the bag by the Warren Commission, but never wavered. The Commission eventually rejected his story and concluded his memory was not accurate.

The Steven Hager Archives

Going up for sale soon and just the tip of the iceberg really on what I am holding: The Steven Hager Archives.

Need to find a landing spot while I can still function, and where it will be put to good use.

Untitled by Steven Hager, watercolor on paper, 1968.

1963 to 1969
Letters, drawings, short stories, artwork and memorabilia, including the only complete copy of The Tin Whistles, created in 1968. The material covers the emergence of garage rock and hippies in Champaign-Urbana, Illinois. Few realize the first real psychedelic anthem was The Finchley Boys “Only Me,” never released and written early in 1966, a song that deployed eastern-tinged scales and feedback to great mystical effect. The band was whisked out to San Francisco and momentarily adopted by the trailblazing Cockettes as “the next big thing.” Written by 15-year-old Mark Warwick, “Only Me” was never the same after Warwick left the band. Champaign became counterculture mecca in part because John Cage was living and working there, creating his most impressive ceremonies. Bob Nutt and Irv Azof (of Live Nation fame) became promoters for the local teen rock bands, which included the Knight Riders, for whom I played bass. Also includes documents involving the entrapment case a State Narcotics Taskforce put on me, a case never successfully prosecuted, just held over me for two years waiting in vain for me to cave and go State’s Evidence against my counterculture cohorts. All underground newspaper publishers were subjected to similar ops, unless they were created by the FBI’s Cointelpro in the first place.

1970-1971
Exile to Sweden, thanks to a low draft number, where I lived out my down-and-out in Stockholm fantasies, bought an antique used typewriter and began churning out philosophical musings, some of which involved CIA penetrations on the deserter movement, a wing of which was connected to LSD trafficking. The most notorious dealer had been jailed just prior to my arrival. Penniless, and on a one-way ticket, I bluffed my way through customs wearing a skimmer, carrying a silver-tipped cane, and wearing an improvised outfit out of a bygone era. “I’m here to inspect Stockholm University to see if I want to attend,” was all I told them. I ended up as an extra in the film on Joe Hill and nearly scored a speaking role as the costume crew took a liking to me.

1972-1977
College journalism, first at San Francisco City College, then playwriting at the University of Illinois. My one-act play was invited to the prestigious National College Theatre Festival and garnered a standing ovation. My plays were heavily influenced by Anton Chekhov and Samuel Beckett. Then it was back to journalism as I picked up a Master of Science degree from the University of Illinois. My thesis project was an examination of the recently created anti-abortion movement, which included a visit with the founder of the movement in St. Louis, Phyllis Schafly.

1978-1984
Professional journalism begins, first at Showbusiness Newspaper, the seedy underbelly of the theater business, led by the notorious Leo Shull. A procession of magazine jobs followed before arriving at the Daily News, where I began writing about hip hop in 1980, collecting massive interview recordings from the major creators and then publishing the first history on the subject while landing a film deal with Orion, which became the groundbreaking “Beat Street.” From there I began interviewing leading figures emerging in the art world, including Jean Michel Basquiat, Keith Haring and Kenny Scharf and published the influential “Art After Midnight” so hated by someone at St. Martins Press they shredded thousands of copies only to see the value rise astronomically in a few years. It remains the best document of the East Village art scene.

1985-2005
Started working with High Times and rose to Editor-in-Chief in a few years, while launching a parade of movements, starting with the hemp movement, the medical marijuana movement, the home cultivation with Dutch seeds movement, the Sea-of-Green cultivation technique that transformed indoor cultivation, and led the emergence of Amsterdam as the world cannabis capital. I also founded a legendary garage-revival band, the Soul Assassins, who began performing at major rallies. Began doing college debates with the former head of NYC DEA, and ended up visiting 400 colleges, and videotaped nearly every debate. Switched from taping interviews to recording everything on video, especially the ceremonies. After creating numerous events, like the Cannabis Cup, WHEE!, the Stonys, the Doobies, the World Marijuana Film Festival, I assembled video crews to live mix four-camera shoots in anticipation of streaming events on the internet. Wrote a screenplay based on my garage rock days titled “The Runaways,” and planned a $100k production but failed to raise the funds although a successful reading was staged at the Living Theater to much applause. I launched a parody of “Survivor” titled “Cannabis Castaways” that became so popular it crashed the website repeatedly. The focus of many events was injecting a dose of clean spirituality into the cannabis freedom movement and deploying 420 as the spearhead on that effort.

Bell, book and candle have been the foundation for ritual for millennia, so I created 7-candle sculptures as a focal point for ceremonial altars. Seven colors, seven scents and seven symbols drawn from a variety of cultures to signify unification of all religion under one rule: “Don’t hurt anybody.” This followed my belief cannabis was the original sacrament that launched peace culture, which created Buddhism and Christianity. Aum and Amen are the same thing, just different ends of the Silk Road.

The video crews were needed to document my belief that holding peace ceremonies could foster a template for passing responsible cannabis culture down to the next generation and prove the case of religious use. I planned to send this case to the Supreme Court using the video as evidence, along with my investigations into the history of religion, and how cannabis’ essential part in creating most religions had strangely been written out of history. In 1990, I wrote the first national magazine article explaining how the CIA killed JFK, and then assembled the greatest investigative journalism team High Times money could buy, a list that included Paul Krassner, Dick Russell, Peter Gorman, Mike Ruppert, Dan Hopsicker, and Robert Anton Wilson. Strangely, both campaigns created immense pushback from the bosses at High Times, although it took them years to figure out a way to declaw and erase me.

2006-2018
Created “The Tin Whistle” blog now with millions of views, and self-published a series of books on culture, politics and cannabis, including “Killing Kennedy,” “Killing Lincoln,” “Hip Hop Archives,” “1966,” “Cannabis, Magic & Religion.” Since zero of my original script of “Beat Street” was used (too much sex and drugs), I rewrote it as “Looking For the Perfect Beat,” and hope to see it produced some day.

 

Released a book of my songs with lyrics and chords. Made numerous short videos and built a Youtube site with millions of views.

I own the rights to all my journalism, books and video, including all work I did with High Times, and have the largest archive of High Times related material, including maps to where all the bodies were buried, and the keys to understanding why my investigative journalism, as well as my campaign for spiritual rights may have upset the powers-that-be.

Not long after my departure, High Times began losing millions of dollars annually.

Meanwhile, I became a specialist in navigating the fake conspiracy network which I call the Tin Foil Hat Patrol, something deployed to discredit legitimate deep state research.

 

Legitimate facts casting doubt on the official 9/11 narrative

The fact many reported hearing explosions and yet zero attempt was made to document the claims and the site was immediately contaminated and all evidence carted away and destroyed. That’s not how you really investigate a crime scene.

The fact Building 7 never got mentioned in the Commission report.

The fact tremendous activity took place just prior to the event. People were placing huge bets two airline stocks would decline, while the securities trading company in the towers was doing massive transfers up until the collapse. All these trades could have been easily tracked and investigated by the FBI.

The fact we rushed the already-written Patriot Act into law, something ripped right out of a Nazi playbook to restrict human rights and allow the national security state to run rampant.

The fact we invaded two countries with zero evidence of any involvement, one for oil the other for opium. The fact the CIA was working with the opium cartel was obvious and little attempt was made to hide that fact.

The fact a FEMA videographer reported strange goings-on and had to eventually flee the country.

The fact hundreds of Israeli intelligence operatives were collecting data from a variety of sources, while many were shadowing the alleged hijackers. One team was located in Florida around the corner from where Mohammed Atta lived, and another was caught videotaping the fall of the towers from Liberty Park in New Jersey, indicating they had some prior knowledge. Some of these operatives were held for weeks in confinement before being quietly sent back to Israel. A DEA report on these activities was strangely published on Salon.

The fact that Atta hung out in strip joints, drinking and doing cocaine strongly indicates he was not a jihadist, but more likely an intelligence operative.

The fact almost all the alleged hijackers came out of Saudi Arabia with suspicious visas that never should have been issued. Many got assistance from Saudi agents while in the USA, and received flight training on US bases (but not how to land). All these facts should have been well-known to the FBI.

The fact that thousands of architects, engineers, relatives of victims, first responders, and now even some NYC fire commissioners are pressing for a new investigation.

The fact that the Pentagon is ringed with security cameras and yet no video of the strike has ever been released. Strangely, the plane had to make a corkscrew turn and come hit the backside of the building to surgically take out the accounting office investigating three trillion dollars unaccounted for. Had it just flown straight into the building, it could have hit the offices of the Joint Chiefs instead.

The fact that former Mossad assassin Juval Aviv, the subject of Steven Spielberg’s “Munich,” said many intelligence agencies had advance knowledge of the plot and warned US officials.

Mary Meyer is a key to the JFK assassination

Mary, Mary, where you goin’ to….with that eyedropper of LSD in your hand, baby?

Let me explain how the world really works: There’s an extremely wealthy oligarchy of American aristocrats, many of whom have strong alliances with relatives in Europe, and they regularly gather in multitudes of private ceremonies to harmonize while surfing various vibrations and plotting a future that involves handing their fortunes down while preserving the cartels and secret monopolies. Today, most people call this crowd “the elites” but I just call them “Old Money.”

Mary Pinchot was Old Money and wore charm and grace like a second skin according to her friends and lovers. She may have been the only woman sexy enough to steal JFK from Marilyn Monroe and she enjoyed bringing sacraments to her liaisons with Jack, often marijuana, but LSD as well at least once because it was legal at the time and pot was not.

Mary’s best friend from college married James Angleton, who rose to head of CIA counterintelligence, the dirty tricks side of the agency, while Mary married Cord Meyer, who rose to become chief of the CIA’s Project Mockingbird, the mission to recruit agents in the news and entertainment media in order to plant propaganda. Mary became a famous journalist herself. Old Money has a left and right too, you see, just like all the rest of us slobs are supposed to be dividing up into “liberals” and “conservatives,” Old Money divides to head up and commandeer those ops, only us regular slobs can only read the news, while Old Money owns the newspaper plant. Mary was at the top of the liberal wing of Old Money, the ones who’d been funding the Communist, socialist and labor movements.

LSD was being passed around freely at the CIA at the time and being experimented with for mind control ops involving hypnosis, so Mary had no trouble getting access. Her first trip was undoubtedly a spiritual one because she became a Temple Dragon with a new mission in life: turn on the most powerful people in Washington so they could see the light of God and start working for world peace. This sacred mission started with the Kennedy brothers, by the way, who apparently fell under Mary’s influence around this time, but then most males in Washington swooned a bit when Mary passed by.

What Mary didn’t know, however, was that devious James Angleton had long been bugging her phone, reading her mail and secretly using Mary as a source of intelligence as she weaved through the upper circles of society spreading her message of world peace. So when Mary began talking with Timothy Leary in order to get advice on how to best invoke a spiritual response on LSD, Angleton was listening in the entire time. And after Mary reported to Leary that Jack loved LSD and had secretly joined her mission to end the Cold War and dismantle the nuclear arms race, well Angleton probably chuckled and took that news to his good buddy Allen Dulles, cousin of the Rockefellers, a man who once ran the CIA but had been fired by Kennedy.

Mary called Leary after the assassination and was distraught. “He was changing too fast,” she sobbed. “They covered up everything. I’m afraid.”

On October 12th, 1964, two weeks after the publication of the fraudulent Warren Commission Report, she was found dead on a jogging path in the park. Two bullets, one to the head and one to the heart. Gangland execution-style. I’d check on both William Harvey and Johnny Roselli to see if one or both were in Washington that day, although a homeless black man found in the park became the designated patsy.

But if you know anything about Angleton and the fact it was his Executive Action Team that killed JFK, then you understand how it was that he was the first person to arrive at Mary’s home and retrieved her diary and any other potentially dangerous evidence.

Just shine a light on James Angleton and his movements and mind set immediately after the assassination and you will see the trail of dead bodies leading off into the darkness. In fact, as his paranoia increased, so did his evil acts and the power of death transformed him into a serial mass murderer. His Executive Action Team (Harvey & Roselli) were initially recruited to kill Castro, but they ended up killing JFK, and it was a messy op involving a national hero, and many died in Angleton’s futile attempts to prevent the truth from leaking out. But Angleton could not have possibly pulled this off without a strong consensus at the top of Old Money that Kennedy needed to go.

Even today, Project Mockingbird continues and part of its propaganda is to make you think we still don’t know who killed Kennedy. A few even push the tired old Oswald acted alone. But the truth has been available for decades, you just have to know how to sift through the disinfo for a dot of truth, and once you connect enough real dots, the trail leads to Angleton’s office at CIA. Do not follow the imaginary dot connections of Project Mockingbird. I call those rabbit holes and they exist to hide the real path to truth. But you can learn a lot from that sometimes if you practice how to look where they don’t want you to.

Something heavy went down…

The ancient Persians considered Balkh the “mother of all cities,” which may be why something heavy went down 5,000 years ago. Balkh was the largest, richest and most important oasis on the road connecting China and India to Europe. In fact, the trail split not far from the city’s immense walls, the southern route tailing off towards the Khyber Pass, while the northern led into the Hindu Kush to Kashgar.

Just as in Sumer, Turkey and Egypt, irrigation methods soon created immense gardens and orchards to support a growing population, and most crops were planted safely inside the city walls. Priests were placed in charge of water and seed distribution, as well as prayers and divinations for a good harvest.

One day there appeared a prophet in the city who instigated a major shift in cosmology. Up until his arrival, it had been assumed the universe was dominated by a vast multitude of greater and lesser spiritual energies, and each community had been free to make up their own pantheons.

When he first appeared on the scene, Zoroaster was a very controversial figure. He apparently accused some of the priests of practicing the dark arts and claimed their magic was fraudulent. It’s strange how today Zoroaster is known as “the first magician,” when, in fact, he seems to have gotten his start by exposing fake magic. During this time, an evil eye accusation could result in an execution. So if a priest accused you of giving someone the evil eye to explain why disaster had befallen them, you were pretty much a lost cause. I’m speculating here, but I believe Zoroaster may have put an end to such superstition.

One thing for sure, Zoroaster obliterated the ancient pantheons that had stood for millennia, replacing them with two forces, one good, and the other evil. It’s gone down in history as the origin of monotheism, even though in practice there were many lesser spirits in play. The other important contribution was the creation of a epic hero involved in seeking enlightenment, which supplemented the prior epic hero involved in feats of heroic strength. It was the first time a philosopher/scientist/astrologer emerged to replace the warrior avatars.

A number of epic hymns were written to celebrate Zoroaster’s quest for enlightenment. Some even attribute the first half dozen to Zoroaster himself. In a nutshell, he went to the top of smokey mountain, communicated with a magic plant, and came back down with the good god’s official rule book.

One day, a new young king of Balkh decided this new prophet Zoroaster was onto something heavy. And that’s when fire temples began sprouting all along the Silk Road serving a mixture of cannabis and milk with spices. This was Zoroaster’s Eucharist for healing the blind and lame, as well as curing depression, a magic staircase to the mind of the good god.

Known as soma in India, haoma in Persia, and shuma in China, the medicine helped transform Zoroaster into becoming the most famous prophet of his time. And, of course, after his death, magical stories about him increased and rapidly erased any human figure. This is the natural trajectory any mythic figure must undergo simply because people want to take their religion with a heavy dose of enchantment. So the debunker of fake magic became the world’s greatest magician.

There’s also been a lot of hoodwinking going on about when he really lived. Lately, there’s even been an attempt to date Zoroaster after Moses, when, in fact, Moses was obviously based on Zoroaster because it was the first Zoroastrian king of Persia (Cyrus the Great) who defeated the corrupt Babylonian empire and freed the Jews. Not only did Cyrus free the Jews, he gave them funds and instructions to rebuild Solomon’s temple in Jerusalem. This all happened before the Jews had a written language, and in gratitude, Moses was fashioned as the Jewish Zoroaster, and most of the cosmology lifted right out of the Avesta.

And, of course, in short order, something heavy went down in Jerusalem.

Return of the Jack Boots

The Antifa jackboot army reminds me greatly of the terrorist Weather Underground, the intel-sponsored group that destroyed the peaceful counterculture through their takeover of the previously peaceful Students for a Democratic Society and their promotion of the insane Charlie Manson. (Watch the video below for the details on that op.)

If you think dressing up in black, wearing a mask, and engaging in violence is a solution to world problems, guess again….you’re a tip on the spear of agitprop, the goal of which is to divide our nation into warring factions concentrated on combat against each other, ignoring the path to any solutions to the problems of wealth inequality, healthcare and education.

Intel is fomenting another Civil War, and no doubt will find ways to profit from it. I guarantee, you will find just as many spooks in Antifa as there are in the Nazi movement, and the most violent members of both groups are swiftly corralled under intel supervision. This is just the beginning, and you can expect knee-jerk reactions as the confrontations accelerate. Denouncing violence in all forms is the only path to peace.
–Steven Hager Aug 19, 2017

Violence begets violence. And is easily penetrated, directed and inflamed by intel. Drop your attention, and this will dry up and go away. What we don’t want is our children sucked into these dialectical games only designed to divide and conquer.

The Nazis were backed by IG Farben and the biggest corporations in Germany. IG Farben was created by John Foster Dulles using Wall Street loans. There are no major USA corporations backing the Proud Boys or the KKK. The battle between fascism and communism was a staged dialectic.

The Proud Boys are not the Nazis, and the country is not in danger of them organizing a coup.

Of course, if they can suck enough people into fomenting violence in the streets, all bets are off, and what shreds of the Constitution remain will evaporate in the name of national security.

Virginia and the Duke

Virginia Roberts made a life-changing decision. Long ago, when she was still a teenager, she ran away from home and ended up working at a Trump casino, where she was discovered by Jeffery Epstein, a former Bear Stearns executive who’d created his own company to profiteer on the incredibly greedy and corrupt medical-industrial-pharma complex.

Upon seeing Virginia working a lowly coat check position, he immediately recruited her into his teenage harem, a harem made available to visiting dignitaries. Epstein’s favorite site for sexual ceremonies was a private island he owned off the Virgin Islands. Many famous and powerful people visited over the years.

That’s Virginia in the photo above with the Duke of York wrapped around her sexy waist. The person taking the photo is undoubtedly Epstein, and that’s his accomplice and sometime sexual partner Ghislaine Maxwell looking very pleased. She’s likely smiling because she knows what a compromising photo this is, a card to be held close to the vest forever. Unfortunately, the cards were confiscated when Epstein was convicted of child abuse a few years ago and given an 18-month prison sentence after pleading guilty to reduced charges. It was a slap on the wrist, really, and the sentence allowed him home visitations.

But did you know Ghislaine is the youngest daughter of Robert Maxwell, who had relations with almost every intelligence agency on earth, although no one knows where his true allegiance lay, if anywhere other than himself? Maxwell was assassinated by Mossad frogmen shortly after helping move tons of gold out of Russia into an underground bunker in Israel. So the fact Epstein made an alliance with Ghislaine is interesting as she arrived in New York with a $120,000 annual inheritance, not nearly enough to pay for the investigation of her father’s death, much less rocket her to the front lines of Manhattan social life.

So I suspect Epstein bankrolled that highly confidential investigation by former Mossad super spook Juval Aviv, a man made famous by Stephen Spielberg’s film Munich. I spent an hour with Aviv a few years ago, and he told me about the gold and the Mossad assassination of Maxwell, although he may have been speaking in probabilities and not certainties (wink, wink).

Here’s what’s certain: The people in power pleasure themselves however they please, and consider themselves above any rules of mere mortals like me and you. Thus the abuse of children is just one of many diseases afflicting their minds. Although Virginia was 17 when most of her abuse occurred, she bears testimony to girls as young as 11 being involved. Virginia escaped because once she reached 19, Epstein sent her to Thailand to study massage techniques, where she met an Australian who rescued and eventually married her. They have three children and live in California.

The British press went berserk dealing with these revelations and it’s funny how they gloss over the Maxwell angle and keep printing he “fell off his yacht,” as if his death was some unfortunate, avoidable accident. The latest book on Maxwell reveals he was involved in stealing and selling the notorious Promis software that was used to penetrate banks and intelligence agencies around the world through a secret back-door. He was around a billion dollars in debt and demanded the Mossad give him the billion to stay afloat or else he planned to spill some beans. The Mossad thought it over, and sent in the frogmen.

New York City’s best grower/dealer?

Strange how High Times kept bringing me back. The final go-round was the most excruciating of all, but I always had a sense the powers-that-be were playing defense against me when they should have been on my team.

While I’d been away this time for two years, video operations entirely ceased, and this happened during the same time frame that Youtube took off and minted a generation of video stars outside the establishment pipelines. The magazine had bizarrely gone no-pot for a disastrous year followed by a nothing-but-pot policy.

I knew nobody was really on my team, but I dove into rebuilding my video operations, but this time on a professional scale. I turned my office into a video studio and shot and edited video every day. Making this foray into film and television was my biggest priority, although I also brought back real investigative journalism, something the magazine was in dire need of, and penned two of my greatest features, one on the CIA’s LSD attack on a French town after WWII, and the other was on an unknown Canadian named Rick Simpson. Both articles attracted attention, something High Times hadn’t seen much of since I’d departed.

But my pride and joy was my High Times Reality TV pilot that I was working up for Comedy Central. I’d already had a couple meetings with the head of the network and they were watching the show’s progress with great interest. I was working on creating the cannabis alternative to Sasha Baron Cohen. Unfortunately, much of the staff were somewhat devastated upon my return as no doubt they’d been expecting the promotion themselves, and some had zero intention of working with me on anything. It certainly helped this attitude along that the owners were ringleaders of the vibes against me.

The first half of the show got screened at the free Woodstock Film Festival. The second half was shot but the footage was hijacked and used to make a generic “welcome to the Cup promo” film that ignored the Borat-style film I’d shot, and replaced it with an endless parade of bud shots.

Hopefully, some day, I will finish the project. But in the meantime, you can check out part one here: